Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Trouble, I Say, Trouble

The older I get, the thinner my skin seems to grow. I always thought that as the years racked themselves up as lines appearing above your lip, beside your eyes, that little things would stop bothering you. Hearing about things, being teased, people making fun of you, but for some reason, all of this affects me more today than it ever did in the past.

I've never been one to take criticism well. It soaks into me, like liquid into a paper towel, and I feel it all, each painful word. Nothing rolls off me, it all sticks like glue, and I realize I'm using a lot of metaphorical language, but hey, at least I'm not pulling a Candace Bushnell.

Years ago, I could recognize the moments when I was feeling particularly immoblized by the outside world as times when I was probably entering into a phase of depression. But I haven't been depressed (unless it's drug-related from the prednisone) for years. And that got me thinking: maybe the meds have permanently altered how my brain functions. Maybe they've made me a dour girl who can't take a joke and whose feelings get hurt at the slightest touch, especially by people I hold the closest to me.

Most days I can get by without wanting to hide away from the world. Most days I can get dressed and get outside and walk with my head up and feel confident that I am good person and that people like me. Most days. But then it'll all come crashing down without any notice, and I'll be stuttering and stalling, refusing to leave the house, wearing my dirty pajamas, crying for no reason, feeling sorry for myself—all kinds of days pass like that, in almost-depression limbo.

It takes me a long time to feel comfortable. It takes me a long time to overcome my frustrating shyness and actually feel confident in social situations. I know a lot of people who know me would say that's not true, but it's how I feel on the inside, sick to my stomach and held so tight that there's nothing for me to do except swallow all those feelings and wait for them to resurface as the disease.

Today is not one of the good days. But tomorrow, well, like Annie says, it'll certainly be sunny, and if I could just learn to roll with it a bit better, maybe it would all come just that little bit easier. Who knows?

I know one thing that'll cheer me up: watching Georgia Rule, the train wreck of a movie I have to see tonight for Chart. Heh.

3 comments:

Beth said...

Oh, my blog friend - I'm so sorry you experience such bad times. Of course I don't truly know you - but from what contact we've had, you strike me as a person with such a full life, so many interests, a great sense of humour...
And a full plate in terms of health concerns.
Perhaps you take on too much? Stress (physical and/or mental) can be so debilitating. Be kind to yourself.
And I'm glad you are looking forward to a "sunny" day tomorrow.

Gallis said...

I get exactly the same thing. But from what I've read and experienced, you either have these "bouts" as I call them cause there's other things you're not dealing with, or you're in an ingrained thinking pattern because of your previous experience. I hate those cases of the glums because they can be very demoralizing. It's hard when you know how you're feeling isn't logical but you feel it nonetheless. But you have such spirit that I can't see it lasting. I think you're doing the right thing in recognizing it's happeneing and letting it vent itself. With patience I think it will go.

Kimberly said...

Ragdoll, I too am only a "virtual" friend, but I definitely know what you're going through. Although I don't have to fight with a chronic illness, life has a way of getting me down some days. It doesn't matter how much we try to fill our lives with amazing people and interesting things to do. It's those still moments when we get a chance to look inwards that work against us, I think. Just know you're not alone in having troubled days and that there are always sunny days ahead.